by Charlie
This story came about as the result of an idle comment made during a book review for Black Silk by Jan Gordon. I would like to thank Jan, Cheryl and Ermintrude for their help and encouragement which were instrumental in forming that random thought into this final project.
I only started writing less than a year ago. While my imagination has always been fertile, I never felt the inclination to commit my ideas to paper. Then, one day, an idle whim had me sitting down and penning a short fanfiction. It was well received and since that time, I've written a number of pieces of fanfic. Forever In Time is my first attempt at an original story. I hope you enjoy reading it.
Charlie
Forever In Time © 2009
Prelude
March 1938, England
Ivan stood as tall and proud as always, despite his seventy-five years. His dark hair, now liberally sprinkled with grey, was highlighted by the faint mist that fell over the cold, windswept cemetery. It was a typical March day. The trees were still bare and the grass was brown. Only the occasional green shoot poked its head up to offer hope of better days to come.
Listening to the drone of the minister’s voice, he absentmindedly watched the little white puffs of vapour that appeared with each breath the man took. The minister meant his words to be comforting, offering hope and solace, but in actuality, they just washed over him, bringing no real relief. His heart beat heavily in his chest, his throat tight from emotions held firmly in check. It was ridiculous to feel this way; he’d known the inevitable would happen, but the knowledge hadn’t made reality any easier to bear. She was gone. His beloved wife of fifty-eight years was dead.
They’d had a wonderful life together, with four children and twelve grandchildren. When they’d immigrated to England from Russia, it had been hard. Natalia had hated leaving her family behind, but he’d sensed the growing political unrest and knew they needed to find a better place to raise their family. England had been good to them. Their home, while simple, had not lacked for the necessities; love and laughter had filled the rooms. A fire had almost always burned in the hearth, while the kettle simmered on the stove, ready to make a pot of tea for anyone who happened to stop by for a visit.
Of course, the children were grown now with their own families and the house had become much quieter in recent years, but as long as his wife had been by his side, it hadn’t mattered. However, now that she was gone, the rooms echoed strangely as he walked through them. It had only been two days since she had died, but already the house seemed less inviting, the smell of her cooking and the fresh flowers she had so loved, were already fading away. At night his bed was cold and lonely. There was no one holding his hand as he drifted off to sleep, nor anyone kissing him awake in the morning. With a sigh, he realized that was all over. He had no home now; no one to be his other half. No reason to continue with this life…
“Dad? It’s time to go.” His eldest son, Daniel, touched his shoulder and he started. Looking around, he realized the others had gone. He hadn’t even noticed. Glancing down, he wiggled his fingers, discovering that they were warm and slightly damp from having shaken the hands of family and friends. His wife had been well liked in the community. Many had stopped to offer their condolences before taking leave of the cemetery. Had he even responded to their well meant words? He hoped so. Natalia wouldn’t have wanted him to be rude; she’d always been a stickler for manners.
Looking at his son, he met the boy’s concerned gaze and gave a brief nod before starting to walk towards the car. His daughter-in-law, Mary, stood beside the vehicle holding three year old Sarah, the youngest grandchild. The girl looked just like her grandmother, and he felt the faintest of smiles appear on his face at the sight of the toddler bouncing up and down beside her mother.
“You will come back to our house, won’t you?” Mary asked.
He hesitated. They were trying to be kind, but in reality all he wanted was some time alone to think about the past and to plan his future. Behind him he heard the dull thud of dirt falling on the wooden casket. A shiver ran through him, as the sound echoed across the desolate space. His fists clenched and he closed his eyes trying to block out the thought of his lovely wife, now lying stiff and cold in the ground. Maybe today was not the day to be by himself after all. The pain was still too fresh. It wouldn’t hurt to let himself be surrounded by the warmth of his family for a little while longer.
“All right, I’ll come, but just for awhile.” His voice sounded gruff, even to his own ears, but Mary just smiled and wrapped her hand around his upper arm. “I’ll help you into the car, Grandpa Ivan. Do you mind if Sarah sits with you?” Without waiting for his reply, the little girl was placed on his lap. She immediately snuggled her golden head against his chest and grinned up at him, her blue-green eyes sparkling—Natalia’s eyes…
*****
July 2009, USA
Stephanie Fields sat inside the hair salon nervously chewing her lip and looking at her own reflection. Wide blue-green eyes framed by long lashes and straight strawberry blonde hair stared back at her. The stylist was combing her long hair and talking about the benefits of a new cut that would give her face more fullness, her hair more body. Paula, her best friend, stood beside her nodding and smiling. This was Paula’s birthday present for her: a cut and style at the new trendy spa that had opened across the street from the flower shop. While Stephanie appreciated the gesture, she wasn’t so sure about this. Cutting her hair was a big step for her. Not that she was particularly attached to her long hair, but change of any sort was hard for her to take. She liked things to be stable and thought each step through before taking it. Even selecting a new breakfast cereal could leave her standing in the grocery store aisle for ages as she debated the pros and cons of various choices. She knew it drove people crazy, but she just wasn’t the spontaneous sort. Every action had a consequence and she had to be sure she could live with the results of her choices.
“Come on, Stephanie. You’ve had long, straight hair ever since I’ve known you. Getting an inch off the ends doesn’t qualify as a new style. It’s your birthday. Live a little. The hair will grow back if you don’t like it.” Paula was a perky, dark haired, ball of energy, the total antithesis of her best friend and boss. While Paula was short, curvy and outgoing, Stephanie was tall, slim and reserved. Paula embraced life and new experiences, while Stephanie tended to sit on the sidelines observing. People were often surprised to find out that they were best friends but they were, each having characteristics that complimented the other. Stephanie reined Paula in from some of her more outlandish schemes and Paula kept Stephanie from being a complete stick in the mud. Right now, her friend was urging her to take a walk on the wild side—well, at least what Stephanie considered wild. Hmm… Maybe she should get it cut. It was just hair after all, and perhaps a change would be good. It might even perk her spirits after the string of bad luck she’d been having lately.
Almost every day for the past two weeks, she’d been plagued by one problem or another. It had started last Monday with her car. She’d had a flat tire and, after getting it repaired, had managed to run over a nail the very next day. Then on Wednesday, in the middle of making deliveries, she’d run out of gas, even though she was sure she had at least a quarter tank. On Thursday, her dry cleaning had disappeared from her car. Over the weekend, a dog had walked all over her newly planted petunias and then the air conditioner at her house had died. Most recently, she’d developed an allergy of some sort that had her sniffling and sneezing. She was taking allergy pills for the symptoms, but the only effect the medication seemed to be having, was to make her brain fuzzy and give her a slight case of paranoia. A voice seemed to be echoing in her head, and she could swear someone was watching her, which was utterly ridiculous. Someone as bo
ringly ordinary as herself would never warrant close observation.
She took a deep breath and made her decision. “All right. Cut away. As you said, it will grow back.” Paula literally bounced with pleasure and Stephanie smiled wanly at her, clenching her hands beneath the protective cape the stylist had draped over her. At least one of them was happy about the hair cut she thought, only half listening to Paula chat away about a new style being just the first step towards a whole new life full of excitement …
Chapter 1
Jake sat in his car watching, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, keeping time with the music playing softly on the radio. It was on old tune by The Police called I’ll Be Watching You. He allowed a faint smile to break the impassivity of his face at the irony of the song. Yes, he was watching and not a single move escaped his attentive eyes. Cars occasionally passed by, momentarily obscuring his view, but these minor inconveniences were to be expected; such was the human condition.
A breeze blew in the open window, briefly cooling the interior of the vehicle. It was mid July and the summer heat was making itself known. The vinyl seats of his non-descript, black car were hot and his shirt stuck to his back, while little rivers of sweat trickled down his neck. Shifting slightly into a more comfortable position, he never took his eyes off his target. Reaching for the can of pop in the cup holder to his right, he took a swig of cola, grimacing slightly. The liquid was warm and flat, doing little to quench his thirst. He could go to the corner variety and buy something cold, but then he’d have to abandon his surveillance and that was unacceptable. While acknowledging the physical effects of the heat on his body, he chose to ignore them. Neither the heat, nor the cold, impinged on him to any great extent. He simple pushed such bothersome details to the side.
Stephanie was in there, he knew it. He’d followed her that morning as she left her house, keeping a discreet distance, doing nothing that could alert her, or anyone else, of his intentions. After stopping at the drug store, she’d made her way here, to the flower shop. Several times he’d seen her pass by the window as she went about her job, blissfully unaware of his presence outside. The angle of the sun made it difficult to see into the building, but her bright coral top was hard to miss. Intermittent flashes of colour could be seen in the window as she moved about and were sufficient to keep his attention riveted. Eventually she would have to come out.
Time was on his side. He could wait. Wait until his target appeared. In his mind he could see her. Every detail of her body was as familiar to him as his own. She was slightly taller than average, but he knew her head would still tuck under his chin. Her body was slim rather than curvaceous, but nicely rounded where it mattered. A dusting of freckles scattered over her nose, and there was a moon shaped birthmark on her upper left thigh.
Carefully he picked up the picture of her from the seat beside him and rested it on the steering wheel. Keeping one eye on the flower shop, he glanced at the photo, tracing his finger over her features. It hadn’t been necessary to bring the shot along—he’d never be able forget what she looked like, but having it with him made her seem closer as he bided his time, waiting until they would finally be together. It was his favourite photo from his collection.
The picture was candid, taken while she was talking with a customer. Her blue green eyes were wide and a polite smile adorned her full lips. He knew just how those lips would feel under his. They’d be soft and yielding, hesitant at first, but then eager once she finally realized their mutual passion. The tip of his tongue slid out, wetting his own lips, anticipating that moment.
Her hair in the picture was long, but just recently she’d had it cut into shoulder length layers. He admitted that it suited her, but mourned the loss of her long strawberry blonde tresses. The longer hair had figured heavily in his fantasies and he was loath to abandon visions of it trailing over his body or having it wrapped around his wrists while he held her captive to his whim. It was a shame, but he shrugged philosophically. The hair was gone now, but she’d grow it back for him, once she realized his preference.
He wondered what it would be like when she finally said his name. Her voice was slightly husky and sent shivers of excitement through him whenever he heard it. Once he’d called her at home and just listened to the sound of her saying hello over and over, before finally hanging up. He’d only done it that one time and had immediately regretted his actions. Phone calls with no one on the other end would only make her nervous and wary. He didn’t want that.
Instead, when the need to hear her voice became too much to resist, he’d follow her through the mall, listening to her talk to store clerks and fellow shoppers. He was always careful that she never sensed his presence, moving away if he felt she might have noticed him. In restaurants he’d sit at nearby tables or adjoining booths, never looking her way, just listening to the sound of her laughing with friends. He loved to hear her laugh. Her happiness was all he ever wanted. Soon, she’d realize that.
There was a slight tapping on the roof of the car and he started, turning to stare at a middle aged woman holding a handful of fliers.
“Excuse me, sir. I’m sorry to bother you… ”
“No bother at all ma’am.” He spoke slowly and calmly trying to give no indication of his inner frustration at having been disturbed. “How can I help you?”
“Well, I’m just distributing these fliers, tucking them under the wipers of all the cars, but since you’re in yours, it seems sort of silly to not just hand it to you.”
“I totally agree. What’s the flyer for?”
“Our church is holding a spaghetti dinner fundraiser next weekend. We’re trying to make enough money to put on a new roof.”
“Good idea. Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, extracting several bills.
“Oh no, sir! I’m not selling tickets, just telling you about the event.”
“I know. Just take the money as a donation. I may or may not be able to make it to the dinner.”
“Well, thank you, sir. May God bless your kind soul.”
He nodded and smiled at the woman, then watched her walk away through his rear view mirror. ‘Bless his soul?’ Did he even have a soul? Somehow he doubted it.
His wallet was still in his hand and had fallen open to his driver’s licence. He studied it for a moment, refreshing his memory as to the particulars of his ‘life’. It proclaimed him to be Jacob Sinclair, thirty years old, six feet two inches in height and weighing one hundred seventy five pounds. The picture was a decent likeness, showing his black hair and blue eyes. Smirking, he recalled how the girl at the desk had fussed over him, eagerly helping him replace his ‘ruined’ licence. She’d easily bought his story of accidentally washing and ironing his old one, even commenting how wonderful it was that a ‘single’ man was domesticated enough to iron.
Knowing that she was throwing out hints, he’d played along, explaining that he was a financial advisor who had recently moved to town and was now planning on setting up a private investment firm. It was, after all, roughly the truth. He had investments; they were just all his own. Long ago, he’d found out that keeping his stories only a few degrees off reality made them more plausible and easier to remember. Even the changes he’d slipped into his licence application had been minor. Unrepentantly, he’d used his wide friendly smile and a generous dose of charm to distract the woman from noticing the alterations. It worked every time. Cynically, he acknowledged that being considered a ‘hunk’ helped when establishing a new identity.
It was a fine line that he walked, intermixing legal and forged documentation of his life, but it was a formula he’d perfected and used successfully for years. All it really took was one credit card, or a library card, to start the ball rolling. After that, everything else typically fell into place. He’d rented a pre-furnished apartment, set up a bank account, and even had a membership at a local gym. His body was lean and muscular by nature, but it never hurt to be seen walking around with a gym
bag. It added to the ‘normal’ aura he was trying to establish in town. So far it seemed to be working. He flipped the wallet shut and put it away, refocusing his attention on the flower shop.
It was almost one-thirty and soon she would be leaving. He knew her schedule off by heart and could predict the pattern of her day. Tuesday was her short shift at work. She’d leave, go to the library, then the grocery store, and possibly complete a few other errands before heading home. Once there, she’d feed the cat, change her clothes, make herself a salad for supper, and then spend the rest of the evening reading and eating chips and dip. Smiling, he recalled a conversation he’d overheard between her and a friend; how she justified the chips and dip by eating just a salad for dinner.
Suddenly he sat up, all of his senses alert. Yes, there she was, leaving the store and walking diagonally across the road to the library. He cringed when a car turned the corner and she had to quicken her pace to avoid being hit. Crossing at the light would have to be one of the talks they had. Reckless behaviour couldn’t be tolerated. The thought of her being injured or, worse yet, killed while crossing the street would have had him breaking out into a sweat, if the summer heat hadn’t already accomplished the job. He’d waited too long to lose her now.
Soon she left the library, a stack of books in her arms. He knew they’d be romance novels of various types, some historical, some paranormal, a few that were risqué. When he’d found the smutty ones in her house, he’d been delighted rather than offended. Her interest in sex tantalized him, making him long for her all the more. Even now his body hummed, just thinking of her reading the erotic passages, her heart beat increasing slightly, her body possibly readying itself for an imaginary lover. If only she knew he was there, ready to ease the ache within her.